


Hot as Ice

by Lirillith



Category: Tiger & Bunny
Genre: Established Relationship, F/M, Ice Play, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Superpower Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-13
Updated: 2014-09-13
Packaged: 2018-02-16 23:46:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,637
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2289101
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lirillith/pseuds/Lirillith
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ice powers have more benefits than just the obvious.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hot as Ice

Before she'd ever hatched any plans about pop idol status or superheroics, Karina had discovered one huge benefit to ice powers — she never had to be hot in the summer if she didn't want to be. She could keep the house cool even when the air conditioner broke during a heat wave, cool herself off immediately after she had to run to catch the train, or keep her ice cream pristine and drip-free no matter how long it took her to eat it; sure, she had to be careful about being noticed, but that was half the fun.

As Blue Rose, of course, it didn't matter in the slightest if anyone noticed the glow, and keeping herself cool was vital; the ice princess of Stern Bild didn't _sweat,_ after all. 

In theory, neither did someone as handsome and flawless as Barnaby Brooks Jr., but in practice, there was a darker patch on the back of his black tee-shirt, and he was getting crankier and crankier the longer they spent in the sun. Which was pretty rich, if you thought about it. She wasn't using her powers _that_ much, and she was wrapped in vinyl and latex, while he was wearing a cotton tee-shirt and khakis.

After the third time he grumbled something under his breath to the effect of "what's the holdup?" Karina gave into temptation and frosted the back of his shirt. He jumped, and whirled to face her; she'd intended to look demure, but she didn't intend it hard enough and burst out laughing at his betrayed look. 

"I suppose I should be thankful," he grumbled. "At least it's cool." He bent his head to kiss her, but to her surprise, he deepened the kiss after only a moment. Making out didn't seem like the best remedy for hot weather. But then again... she summoned up a lump of ice between her fingers as she wrapped her arms around his shoulders, and dragged it across the back of his neck. He made a small, urgent-sounding noise at the back of his throat that hit her right between the legs, and pulled her closer; with one of his arms around the small of her back, just under the vines of her uniform, her hips pulled flush against his, and he was definitely hard. 

Before she was able to really get into that thought, though, she heard a cough off to one side, then a woman's voice saying, "Uh, Barnaby? Blue Rose?" 

He broke the kiss and rested his forehead against hers, with a sigh. She pulled back and nudged his glasses back into place. "It figures," she murmured. "Did you smear my lipstick?"

"You know they'll touch you up anyway," he said. He stepped back and took a deep breath, pulled his glasses off to clean them, and then turned to the PA who'd interrupted them. She could already see the beginnings of his practiced smile, and while he didn't have himself completely under control, his arousal wasn't totally obvious, either. He was almost insultingly good at regaining his composure. 

But then again, he needed to be, because making him lose it was her personal mission. And it looked like she had another avenue to explore.

 

Nathan had put his seal of approval on any number of books offering relationship advice and sex tips, and while it felt a little weird sometimes reading sex books with your best friend's blurb on the cover, Karina had devoured them all. She'd become a sex symbol as a sixteen-year-old virgin; she'd needed all the help she could get. She wasn't sixteen or a virgin anymore, but she hadn't forgotten what she'd learned. And this seemed like as good a time as any to put it into practice.

Anyone could stick a couple of ice cubes in her mouth before going down on a guy, but Karina had all kinds of possibilities at her fingertips. 

Literally at her fingertips, because once they were finally done filming — all that time and all those people for a ninety-second ad spot and some billboards — and she'd changed into street clothes, she climbed into his car and ran a streak of frost behind his ear before the air conditioning had even gotten cool. 

He shivered, but that was a perfectly normal reaction to something cold touching you unexpectedly. "Thank you," he said, dryly enough it could have been sarcastic. "That's very helpful."

"Aww, I kinda thought you liked it." 

"I'm not saying I didn't, but my leg is killing me right now, and I just want to get home." 

"Your leg?" 

He inclined his head in the direction of the windshield; ahead of them, she could see dark clouds on the horizon. "Looks like a thunderstorm," he said. "Or maybe it's just the humidity."

"Well, let's get you home and into a hot bath, Grandpa." 

"It's the scarring, not arthritis!"

"I know, I know." She'd seen it happen, when he'd been stabbed during the fight with the killer robots. "But you're _predicting the weather with your leg."_

"Laugh it up," he grumbled. 

"Aww, I'm sorry." It came out sounding snide by default, but she wasn't actually a fan of leaving her boyfriend in pain, no matter what some of her fans probably believed, so she put a cold hand on his knee. "Does that help at all?"

"It might. The scar's a little higher." 

She stuck her tongue out at him, but moved her hand up. "Okay, _now_ does it help?" 

He kissed her temple and put the car into gear. "It does, yes. If you don't mind leaving your hand there..."

"Oh, no, I have to grope your thigh the whole way back to your apartment. I think I'll live." 

 

Whether the ice was an active turn-on or just irrelevant, it certainly didn't shut down his libido; once they were in the elevator in his building, he wrapped his arms around her from behind, brushed the hair off the back of her neck, and pressed his lips against her nape. She shivered, pressing back against him. "That's not really playing fair," she murmured.

"Oh? I seem to remember someone trying to seduce me with ice in public..." 

"Did it work?" she asked hopefully, tilting her head back to get a look at his face. 

He moved a hand up to cup her breast. "You could probably have seduced me with anything that offered some relief from that heat. Ice, specifically? I have to say it doesn't sound that appealing in sensitive areas."

"What about your leg?"

"It did help with that. So does heat, but on a day like today, a hot bath doesn't sound nearly as good."

Ice for swelling; heat for tension, probably? She wasn't sure which was the problem with the old scar, unless it was both. The doors opened for his floor, and she stepped away from him and out of the elevator. "I guess it'd be nice to wash the sweat off, though, and cold baths usually aren't much fun." 

"Precisely." 

As he entered the keycode for his apartment, she got up on tiptoes to nibble on his earlobe. "Mm, salty."

"Thank you, Karina. I'd never have known otherwise." He opened the door, then stood back to let her through. "Wash off the sweat and then sit around naked to dry off."

"Yeah. ‘Sit around.'" 

"I may be leaving out a few steps."

More than a few. For one thing, neither of them ever forgot to moisturize. But he clearly wasn't feeling too miserable for sex, and she could work with a hot bath or shower. The hot-and-cold contrast was supposed to be the whole point, after all. 

Besides, he was kind of a neat freak, and if they were going to have wet, melty sex he'd be much happier having it in the bathroom than in his bed. And having sex in his bathroom was no hardship; it might not be well-upholstered, but it was palatial, all marble and recessed lighting, and the tub was more than big enough for two. It was big enough for a small orgy.

But it took a while to fill. As he fiddled with the temperature, she opened the cabinet by the tub — BBJ required more than a single paltry medicine cabinet — to survey the bath salts and oils. "Any aromatherapy preferences?"

"That's up to you. I wasn't planning to bother." 

And she was pretty sure all the scents in there were for relaxation and reducing stress, so she could either pick by her favorite smells, or bypass it entirely and enjoy the view, since Barnaby was stripping down. It didn't matter how many times she saw it, she still had to stop and silently appreciate when he took his clothes off. His arms and shoulders were muscular, but lean, and his legs and ass were sculpted perfection. 

Once she'd started dating him she'd understood Nathan a lot better, she reflected, as she reached out to squeeze his butt. 

He jumped slightly, and turned his head to smile at her over his shoulder "I'm glad you approve."

"Always." She tugged her dress over her head. "I'm not going to bother with anything scented. I'm feeling kind of sticky too."

"You didn't shower in your trailer?" He stepped into the tub, wincing slightly at the heat. 

"Just washed my face," she said, reaching up to unhook her bra. She noticed him watching — or staring, more accurately — and smiled, draping her bra over his shoulder. He immediately removed it and folded it in half before he placed it on top of his shirt. She put a bit of wiggle into her hips as she worked her underwear down her legs, slowly; he reached out to run a hand up her calf, lingering behind the knee. 

She stepped out of them and bent over to kiss him, lingeringly, then stepped into the tub, hands on his shoulders to help keep her balance. He put a hand on her elbow to steady her, and she settled into the water, kneeling just in front of him. The ends of his hair was damp, curling up more than usual, and she took off his steamed-over glasses for him and put them on the broad edge of the tub. He reached for her, and she let him pull her a little nearer, kissing him deeply. But when his hand dipped between her legs, she caught it by the wrist. "Let me try something, okay?"

"All right..." He sounded slightly mystified, but agreeable, and that was good enough for her. She reached under the water, running her hands up and down his sides, then cupped her hand around a small sphere of her power and concentrated. By the way he jumped, it was apparently cold enough to notice, and she hadn't frozen over the tub, so it was a success in that way. The question was whether he liked it or not. "What do you think?" 

"That's... definitely unexpected."

"Good? Bad?" The point was the contrast of hot and cold, but if he just didn't like it, there was no real point. 

"I'm trying to decide." 

While he thought about it, she traced a figure-eight around his navel, then an infinity symbol on his chest, looping around his nipples. His breathing had quickened, so she tried circling one nipple with the ice, and was rewarded with a hissed intake of breath. "It _sounds_ like you like it."

"I think I do," he said. "Further experimentation is required, anyway."

"Nerd," she teased, then froze a small block of the steam in the air and popped it into her mouth. She put her hands on his shoulders to kiss him, so she didn't lose focus on her hand under the water; when her cold tongue met his, she felt his erection twitch against her thigh. Success, she decided. Definite success. She pulled away and created two new spheres of ice, one in each hand. 

"What I don't understand—" he began, breaking off with a gasp when she put her hands on his hips. 

"Yes?" she purred.

"I thought you didn't like having sex in water." 

She ran her hands up either side of his spine; his back arched at the touch, and she kissed his exposed throat and nipped his jaw. "I have a plan," she said. She dragged the ice back down his back, slowly. "You're supposed to just relax and enjoy." 

"Got it," he panted, then gasped when she reached the cleft of his ass. She shifted her focus, working her hands up his inner thighs; his hands tightened on her hips when her wrist brushed his cock by accident. She grinned, and kissed him again. He kissed back, hard and almost desperate, but she pulled away again. She didn't usually get him aching for it like this, and she wanted to enjoy the sight. He was tensed and shuddering, muscles taut, and she'd been the one to get him like this. 

His cock was hard in her hand, his balls riding high and tight; she'd wondered if the direct touch of ice would totally deflate his erection, but now she wasn't worried. "God, Karina," he groaned, hips jerking upward, when she circled the ice around the shaft, " _please._ " The sound was like a straight shot to her center. She kissed him, messy and hard, as she jerked his shaft, working the ice around the head until, with a groan, he buried his face in her neck, and she could feel him spurting over her hands under the water.

"And now we need to drain and refill the tub," he said, as soon as he'd caught his breath.

"Oh, for—" He kissed her before she could finish voicing her exasperation, tongue probing her mouth; she half-suspected he'd be reaching around her for the tub's drain, but his hands were on her hips, squeezing her ass, and then they were roaming. 

"Make me some ice?" he murmured, lips against her neck.

"Out of the tainted water?" She wasn't about to look down to check and dislodge him, not when he'd reached that spot right behind her ear, but she was willing to bet it'd completely dispersed to the point of invisibility. There hadn't been any visible traces that time they'd fucked in the tub and she'd learned she didn't like underwater intercourse. 

"Preferably not the tainted water, no, since I want to put it in my mouth."

Ahhh. Returning the favor, then. "If it's good enough for _my_ mouth," she teased, but there was still plenty of water vapor in the air, and she could make a couple of little heart-shaped ice cubes. If she didn't think the whole idea sounded good she wouldn't have tried it on him, after all.

"They're not going to hold up as well for you as they did for me," she said, pulling back — he'd moved down to her shoulder, which wasn't the most sensitive spot, and she needed to peel a hand off her thigh to put the ice cubes in it anyway.

"You can't preserve them for me?"

"I'm probably going to be just a bit distracted," she said. "Besides, part of what makes you feel it is when it's melting against your skin. I was protecting it from melting in the hot water, but not from your body temperature."

"So you've done your homework on this."

"A bit." 

"And you'll tell me if anything's uncomfortable?" 

If he didn't hurry up she'd need to make him some more ice cubes. "Of course," she said, and then he slipped one of the ice cubes into his mouth and kissed her deeply. 

It was different being on the receiving end, feeling the heat of his tongue and the cold of the melting ice, and then she felt the cold burn of the other ice cube against her nipple and moaned into his mouth. He was being a lot more cautious about the ice than she was, keeping its touch against the most sensitive spots fleeting; his other hand, free of ice, was the one at work between her legs, and while she might want him to get a little more adventurous about it, she had no complaints, either. He clearly remembered her explanation about water's effect on lubrication; his fingers stayed near her clit, never entering her, even when her hips reflexively jerked into his hand to demand more. 

And then he stopped. "What the hell?" she protested, but he nudged her in the direction of the edge of the tub, and she had a pretty good idea why he wasn't opening his mouth to speak. She spread her legs and he obligingly buried his face between them; when the cold water touched her swollen lips she nearly slammed her legs shut on his head, but she grabbed a fistful of his hair, too, and he didn't pull away. His tongue was chilled, but not as cold as the ice cube he now held against her thigh; she could feel it melting, the cold almost but not quite painful, and she let her legs relax enough that he could slide it lower. She shuddered and almost growled something incoherent when the sliver of ice brushed the hood of her clit, and then she groaned out loud when he followed the cold with a swipe of his tongue, almost hot in comparison. 

"Do you want me to stop?" he asked. 

"You better not," she gasped, and she heard him chuckle before he resumed, the tip of his tongue flicking against her, too lightly. She used to feel uncomfortable about the way her hips took on a mind of their own, jerking into his face when he pulled stunts like that, but not anymore. Especially not right now. She dug her fingers into his shoulders, and he responded with stronger pressure, the tip of his tongue circling, and then she felt his weight shift. 

His hands were warm from the water, and now that she was out of the tub, she was soaking in another way, and his two fingers slid in easily. She wasn't as full as she sometimes liked, but it was enough, when he resumed licking her; with the flat of his tongue against her clit and his fingers crooked inside her, she felt herself clench and spasm, dug her heels and fingernails into his back and held on until the tremors subsided.

And then she had to make herself turn loose of him before she suffocated him. He apparently had the same thing in mind, because when he lifted his head and wiped his mouth, he said, "There are worse ways to go."

"Maybe I should have drowned you instead."

"No, I'm glad you did that. It crossed my mind you might fall off the edge of the tub, but at that point I think you might have really drowned me if I'd tried to stop and get you to move."

"Or just frozen the tub around you." She slid down into the water again, her legs still trembling. "The edges are so wide I'd have a hard time falling off. You worry too much."

"Only about very specific targets," he said. 

About her, she knew, and Kotetsu. Who would probably, with his usual stellar timing, have sent Barnaby a string of texts while they were otherwise occupied. She snuggled into his damp chest as he reached to put his glasses back on, nearly knocking them into the water, but he caught them after the fumble. 

"Is your leg any better?" she asked. "Not that I was exactly keeping ice on it, but between the heat and other ways of making it relax..."

"It is," he said. "Much. Although this does seem a little involved as a treatment regimen."

"Having sex with you isn't too involved. The ice was just a bonus." Her leg brushed against his groin under the water, and she could feel that he was hard again; she grinned and gave it a friendly rub. 

"I can't help it," he said, with a touch of embarrassment. "It's just how I react to going down on you."

"If you want to towel me off and carry me to the bed..."

"No ice cubes on the sheets."

She sighed. "Of course. Why do you think I tried them in the tub instead?"

"Well, then..." 

Despite her suggestion, she hadn't expected him to actually arrange her in his arms and then stand up while carrying her; she shrieked, surprised, then started giggling as he stood for a moment, probably getting his footing, before he stepped out of the tub. "It was your idea," he said, reproachfully.

"And you were worried about me falling?" She settled her arms around his neck. 

"I was hoping you'd carry the towel," he said. 

So he didn't mind getting the sheets a bit wet, from the sound of things. She grinned, stretching one arm out to snag a towel from the rack. Could she wrap it around his waist? Not easily. She was a bit slippery like this and if she twisted around too much he might drop her, or more likely, start complaining. She tried hanging it down his back instead, like a cape. 

He stopped in front of the full-length mirror. "Very dashing," he said. 

"Needs to be more pink to match your hero suit," she said. She could actually barely see the maroon towel, just the two of them, damp and flushed and stringy-haired from the bath, with Barnaby smiling that private smile she only really got to see at times like this. "Onward." 

In the end, she dropped the towel on the floor by the bed, figuring they could arrange things afterwards; he laid her in it anyway, and joined her without another word of concern for his six hundred thread count sheets.


End file.
